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I breathe through the dangerously intoxicating promise of feeling nothing but him, aware that I’m beginning to walk perilously close to the edge of some cliff from which a plummet would be into cruel, cold waters.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Voyeurism. I’d like to fuck you in places we could be caught.”
“And what if someone catches us?”
“They won’t. I know how to be careful. And if they do, I have enough money to pay them off.”
“Fine,” I breathe out, looking at the final words on the list, the ones which made my stomach lurch when I first saw them.
“Consensual non-consent,” I whisper.
He angles me to face him. “Do you understand what that means?”
“I… I’m not totally sure.”
“It’s like a role-play. I punish you by fucking you. And you fight me while I do it. You can screamStopas loud as you want, the word is meaningless. You can beg me to stop and I won’t.”
“But you’d stop at the safe word?”
His features harshen as his eyes search mine. I assume the question irritates him, but instead, I see something else—concern, maybe.
His lips move as if he means to speak, but stops himself.
“Indie… There will be a time, in anything we do, that I won’t stop at that word.Never.”
A lump forms in my throat and I realize I’m shivering inside, my eyes now misting stupidly. I blink quickly only for his expression to darken as if a storm cloud has rolled in.
“Indie… I once asked you if your ex hurt you… in that specific way. You said no. Is that true?”
I forget to breathe for a moment as my fingers find the muscles of his arm. I suddenly want to vanish into thin air. I want to tell him everything… and nothing.
I just don’t want him to think of me as some problem case he has to solve. I want to feel like me for once.
“No,” I lie and he exhales slowly.
“And… anyone else?”
I shake my head, lying again.
His hand finds the side of my face as he pulls me into him, inspecting my eyes so fiercely that I almost have to look away. “We can stop the list for today,” he says.
“No,” I announce urgently, desperate to try to heal myself. If my past holds me back, I’ll get stuck in the darkness again. I want to get out of it for good. And Grey, the only man who ever asked about my limits, makes me feel safe enough to think I can do that. “I want to do it. Consensual non-consent.”
His eyes caress my lips. “We’ll start gently… and build up.”
I nod, my fingers pressing into the dense carvings of his arms, sliding along them, kneading them unconsciously as I work my way up, arousal replacing the momentary static of trauma.
Without warning, he hauls me against his frame, inhaling thunderous breaths as he breathes in my neck, my hair, my temple, his lips stroking my skin as his arms enfold around my back, practically covering the thing as my lips find the skin between his neck and shoulder. I rub myself against his erection, moaning a little as I taste his delicious skin with my lips, my tongue. I feel ravenous for him as I inhale his woody, citrusy scent, half-wishing I could bite and imbibe his blood.
He groans as I slide my pussy along his shaft, separated by only the fabric of the loose and soft mauve pants I picked out from the clothes left for me and his black sweatpants.
He pulls me down onto his cock and I whimper his name as he draws undefined kisses over my neck, his tongue venturing out to taste my flesh at times.
“Indigo,” he whispers and I clutch onto him harder, only for him to stiffen a little, his lips leaving my skin and his spine straightening.
I collect myself as well, realizing that I’m close to allowing my desire for him to erode the multiple walls that Marilla warned me to keep up around him if I see him again.
